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The original site was designed by Mikko Hyppönen and deployed by Henrik Rydberg. It was later upgraded extensively by Dan Balis. The current layout was designed by S. Abbas Raza, building upon the earlier look, and coded by Dumky de Wilde.

Friday, May 31, 2013

Dust to Dust

There are women left who have no rage in their wrists As they slice greens or skin tomatoes towards mealtime. Their husbands are at the beer-gardens with Family money – what would amount to a bag of beans Or soap bars.

There are women who keep both lips quietly touching, Even as they gesture a fly from their brow, and Swallow the mucus of a chilled afternoon. They remember vaguely when love began And the commonplace was not where they were going.

A woman is born knowing how it happens, Her heart turning to dust as fine as cinnamon. It has to do with disease, redder lips, City restaurants, the cost of deodorant.

Indeed, it so happens that their men are condemned To spend the rest of their lives staggering home To fuck a corpse who smells of kitchen duty And an unwillingness to preen for a wanderer. These women wear long, brown dresses. They rarely hurry across busy intersections, They move as if, inside them, they carry a heavy mound..